A Trip to an Apartment
by Merridian
Summary: A generic story about a generic antipairing with a rather generic ending. Think of the most generic plotline, and you'll probably end up with this. ONESHOT


**Disclaimer:** I don't own NGE

**Author's Note: **Yeah… I had originally intended this to be somewhat serious, but then I just sorta blew it off and scrapped it. That explains why it goes from the typical angsty writing to the more situational humor towards the end, if you get the meaning.

I dunno. It's a refuse heap, like everything else. And it's generic. ugh.

Enjoy.

On with the show…

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**A Trip to an Apartment**

Why was he here?

Shinji rubbed the back of his neck as he stared at the plain grey door. Rust stains stood out against the otherwise steady texture, giving the whole complex an air of a militaristic stoic.

Did he really expect _sympathy_ from the girl who occupied the space beyond?

Summoning the tattered remains of his courage, he raised a bruised hand, clenching it into a light fist. Letting it hover it in the air mere inches away from the steel door, he stared at it. The darkened bruises stood out against his pale skin as plainly as the rust stains upon the door.

"…But she'd just bruise my heart, wouldn't she?" His eyebrows fell into an expression of despair. "…Because that's what she's always done."

His hand fell to his side, all courage he had previously summoned gone. He looked down at the tulips he held in his hand, staring at them for several moments as his mind fought itself. He bought these for her—_specifically_ for her. They were for no one else. It wouldn't feel right if he gave them to someone different. Besides that, they were simply too beautiful to be wasted like that.

A ray of sunlight suddenly leaked through the window, casting an outline of light which was centered on the flowers in his hand. The break in the overcast skies was brief however, as the sudden illumination was cut short by another dreary cloud.

His thoughts broken by brief sunlight, Shinji idly looked around the hallway. It was dark, and the incessant sound of construction and deconstruction filled it with a cacophony of sound. It was hard to say just _what_ was happening to the whole complex of apartment buildings, as there was always a crew outside working on something. No one lived here, save for the unfortunate few who had little or no choice in living quarters.

Welcome to Slumsville: the best NERV had to offer—_literally_.

It was sad, actually. Such a powerful organization and it forced the ones cursed with a low salary to live in a refuse. Of the few times he had come to this particular apartment, Shinji had gotten the impression that the electricity rarely worked, the plumbing was beyond sub-par, and he had a vague suspicion of a rat and pest problem. This wasn't even mentioning the noise that permeated the air at any given hour of the day.

He glanced back at the flowers. He had to do this. He had no reason not to.

…Right? Was this even okay? Was this allowed?

Shinji raised his hand to knock again, faltering as it was lowered itself to the steel door. Instead of the rap he had intended, he instead let it rest upon the metal without actually hitting it.

He was thinking again—what if he was rejected? She'd abandon him! She'd abandon him like she's always done! _She'd abandon him like his father did!_

Wouldn't she? Rejection—he's already felt it so many times before; especially from her. She didn't need him, never needed him, never even wanted him around. It was like she simply put up with his presence, just as she merely put up with the tedious act of schoolwork, or the task of existence itself. She wasn't specifically _committed_ to anything; no passion in anything she did. She didn't even have a passion for piloting, and she claimed that Eva was her only reason for life. At least, if she _did_ have a passion for it, she certainly didn't show it.

So what was up with the whole Ramiel incident? Did she smile at him because he rescued her? No, that couldn't be it. She wasn't really happy for living, he could tell that. Maybe it was because he was her… friend? He almost laughed at his idiocy—of course not. He didn't have friends. He was just what his roommate always claimed; the spineless idiot. Spineless idiots don't have friends.

So why did she smile?

He frowned. Could it have been simply because he cared? Was she appreciative of that? If she was, she never made it clear.

But then, this girl _never_ made _anything_ clear. It was like she purposefully kept everything ambiguous, forcing him in the dark as to what her emotions really were. Maybe she liked torturing him that way. The rest of the crew seemed to enjoy embarrassing him and teasing him—maybe this was her own way of poking fun at him.

No, that can't be it. She wasn't like that. She was different from them; she was appreciative. She didn't try to embarrass him, she just did it because that was her nature—right?

He lowered his hand again, staring down at the dirty floor. It was still the same dirty floor he had stared at moments before.

It was the same.

Just like his predicament—the same thing, day in, day out. A monotonous routine he followed because he didn't have a choice.

So did he have a choice with this? Did he even have the _option_ of attempting a relationship with Rei? Was that allowed? Was it possible? It had to be possible; she did, after all, smile after the Fifth Angel.

…Didn't she? Maybe she didn't. Maybe he had imagined it. Maybe she was exactly as everyone thought her to be; the emotionless ice-queen.

Shinji's shoulders sagged as he thought all of this over. Taking one last look out of the window, noticing for the first time the reddened sky of the setting sun, he turned from his place at the door. He couldn't do this. He'd just be rejected anyhow. She was cold as ice. It didn't matter. He didn't matter. He didn't matter to _her_.

What would Asuka think of him?

She'd think he was a coward.

What would she do if someone called _her_ a coward?

Prove them wrong, of course. Asuka liked proving everyone wrong.

He liked that in her, that spirit—that _strength_. Maybe… maybe he could… borrow that strength...?

He wanted to be strong. Asuka was strong. Asuka defied what people called her. Asuka called him weak and pathetic. He wanted to be strong, like Asuka, who defied what people called her. He'd defy what Asuka called him. He'd be strong.

He reaffirmed his grip on the bouquet, returning to the rust-stained door. He took a breath, before raising his hand to knock, bringing it down with every intent to strike—

Until a sound at the end of the hallway alerted him to someone else's presence. He paused, in mid-knocking, to turn his head to see who the intruder was.

A man stood there, middle-aged, dressed in a brown suit, orange spectacles, and one hand in his pocket. He wordlessly approached Shinji, who remained motionless with his hand still poised at the pre-knocking stage of arrival. The man looked down at him, eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

Then he turned, focusing his attention on the door, Shinji's eyes never leaving his figure. He, too, raised a gloved hand to knock, in a similar fashion as his son, bringing his knuckles down to the metal surface—

To hit air.

The albino blinked, seeing the elder Ikari at her door with his son, who bore a bouquet of tulips; both standing erect with their fists raised in the air.

The both opened their mouths to speak, but Rei beat them to it. "Good evening, Commander," he nodded to the suited man, "Ikari," she nodded to Shinji.

"Ayanami—" Shinji started, only to be cut off.

"Are you ready to go?" Gendo's voice sent a chill down his son's spine.

"I already have a previous engagement, Commander," Rei replied. "I believe you scheduled dinner for tomorrow." She started down the hall, without a second glance back. "Good evening." She said, exiting via stairwell.

The Ikaris frowned.

Gendo turned to his son, observing the tulips, before turning to the window and glancing down at the street. A red convertible had just pulled up, a tall elderly man poised in the back seat while a pony-tailed man in his thirties jay-turned the vehicle to have it perfectly align next to the curb.

The lack of glass in the windows provided the perfect eavesdropping opportunity.

"Hey there, Rei!" Kaji called from the driver's seat. The cerulean head was seen walking across the sidewalk toward the car. "Glad you could make it!"

"Hello, Mr. Ryoji." Her quiet reply was barley heard from the apartment building. "Sub Commander," she nodded to the elderly man.

The man shook his head, "No, just Kuzo, Rei." He said. "I'm off-duty."

"And just Kaji—I never got into the whole formality business."

She nodded in response as she stepped into the passenger's seat. "Understood."

"Hello, Ikari!" Fuyutsuki called up from the back seat of the car, waving as he observed the Ikari duo from the glass-less window.

Gendo tentatively raised his right hand and waved back. So much for eavesdropping.

"Hey Commander!" Kaji waved as well. "Hiya Shinji!" He paused for a moment, as if in thought. "You guys want some food? We're on our way out for some quality dinner—not that NERV cafeteria garbage, either." He called up, "I mean a good, sit-down restaurant with a quality atmosphere."

Gendo looked down at his son again, who returned his awkward, somewhat halting gaze.

They both shrugged.

Fuyutsuki picked up where Kaji left off. "It will give you guys a chance to bond!" he called, forcing both Kaji and himself to restrain from chuckling.

The Ikaris frowned, deeply.

Minutes later, the red convertible rocketed down the streets of Tokyo-3, carrying two more passengers than originally anticipated.

Shinji just hoped that the food was worth his father's close proximity in the cramped back seat.


End file.
